Gravity
by crossyourteez
Summary: The three worlds are converging as one, and when eyes are opened, only the ambitious will take action and claim what they can. As Human World and Makai collide, not even the reikai tantei can stand between these worlds and a new war, where the lines between good and evil are blurred beyond comprehension. An examination of what would happen if humans discovered Makai. ON HIATUS
1. Prelude: Gravity

**So this reboot of **_**Gravity**_** is VASTLY different from the original. There are a few things that remain the same, but the plot has changed in many different ways. So if you're a returning reader… I hope the changes are okay! If you're a new reader, enjoy the ride!**

**You'll recognize someone if you are a returning reader and paid veeeery close attention to the last few chapters of WTT… ;) Also, the format of the "prelude" is different from my other stories. In ATG and WTT, they're just scenes that I've copied/pasted from later on in the story. This is an actual **_**beginning.**_** Also, third person YEY.**

**Please leave a review!**

* * *

**GRAVITY**

"_Say my name aloud and make it new_

_And I'll promise you what I can_

_I forget myself when I'm with you_

_Please remind me who I am."_

—Bic Runga,_ Gravity_

Prelude: Gravity

* * *

She knew they—whoever _they_ were—had left her for dead.

Her heart defiantly struggled on, pumping blood through her veins and into the dirt. With every beat it stumbled forward to its last. She wondered which would come first—would she bleed out, or would some Makaian creature happen upon her and finish it quickly? She almost laughed at the irony, but something gurgled in her throat and made her cough, and she decided against it. Having a demon finish the job her attackers had begun. A _demon_, of all things.

The details were getting fuzzy, but she knew that she'd somehow dragged herself to a small outcropping of rock and wedged herself beneath it as the night fell. Her blood trail was painfully obvious, but having something as solid and immovable as stone pressed against her back made her feel better. When they came for her, they couldn't sneak up on her without her knowing. They had to face her, and look into her eyes. Well, whichever one was still open at that point. They were very much on their way to being swollen shut.

By now the major world powers would all know the dirty little secret of the demonic and spiritual planes. When that information made it out to the public was a different story, however. Sakyo's master plan would be undeniably tantalizing to even the most moral of the world's politicians. If such a thing even existed.

She's almost stopped it. The UN only thought that they were going to have the upper hand in this exchange. They only thought that their sacrifice was going to be small. A small price for the information that would both protect them and bring them _profit_. In the end, that's exactly what was going to destroy them.

If her people had just _listened_ to her…

But she didn't even know what that meant anymore. Who were her people? What had they done? It all slipped into darkness, and she lost herself in it.

* * *

She didn't know how long it had been since she'd passed out. But it was warm, and bright. It seared her eyelids.

"She looks bad, Kurama." The heavily accented voice, though subdued, was rough on the ears. "Real bad. Ah wasn't worried before, but now…"

"Yes," someone responded. His tone was light, but strained. Tired. "There's a chair over there, if you want to sit."

"Ah think _you_ should be the one sittin' down, Kurama." A squeal of metal on tile made her head burst, but she didn't feel herself wince. She couldn't move her face; it was somewhere else, very distant from her body. "Yeh've been t' hell an' back, the both of you."

"Compared to Reina, I took a stroll in the park." The one named Kurama was silent for a moment, then said quietly: "We would always go to the park. She would pick the highest tree and insist I ferret her up in it… she liked to look out to the horizon. It made her appreciate the world more, she said. She could see it better from above…"

* * *

"Yer up!" the accented one crowed, and she could hear commotion. She dimly realized some time must have passed, but how much she didn't know. "They haven't fixed tha' yet? Looks like it hurts, lass…" He—she couldn't remember her _own _name, much less his—sounded troubled.

"Not as much as it used to," a thin, female voice responded. There was a silence, people shifting their weight. Then, the weak voice returned:

"None of that." The woman sounded like she was trying to be stern, and may have once commanded some level of severity, but her voice cracked over a mere whisper. "It wasn't his fault, Chu. You shouldn't have hit him." There was a rustling of blankets, and the darkness took her again.

"Poor lass…" the voice was distant and fading in and out. "Found 'er… broken bones an' such." They must be talking about her. One of the voices hovered over her, and was very close. Close, but not close enough. She was so weak. Too weak and tired… for what? She didn't know. But he needed to come closer.

"At least she got out alive," the cracked, broken whisper of the woman in the bed next to her said, and then she knew no more.


	2. Seasons

**Chapter one of **_**Gravity!**_** Woot woot!**

**Thanks for the reviews, Kactuskat16, YuYuHakushoObsesser, Mr steve jr, livtink, and Beryl Bloodstone! Good to see y'all again (and it was nice to see a new username too, livtink!)**

**For those who haven't read ATG/WTT: So, in this chapter, there's one OC that requires some explanation. She's going to be in a relationship with one of the canon characters—all of her backstory is in ATG and WTT. Trust me, their relationship was built up slowly and surely over the course of 300,000+ words. I didn't just drop her in there for the heck of it. :P And there is another character that'll show up as well; he's canon but his presence will be a wee bit confusing for those who haven't read ATG/WTT. His existence is also explained in those two stories.**

**If you squint, **_**Gravity**_** could be a stand-alone story. However, it's not really intended to be that way… and there will be spoilers for ATG and WTT in **_**Gravity**_** because of it. But, you don't have to read ATG and WTT to understand it, so you honestly do not **_**have**_** to go catch up. :)**

**Hope you like!**

* * *

"_If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant: if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome."_

—_Anne Bradstreet_

Seasons

* * *

She woke up, and sat up, as the sun was setting.

And it didn't _hurt._ She marveled at that. The last time she'd been conscious, she had been broken and battered by… She frowned at that, not remembering. She'd been hurt though, badly hurt, and had faint memories of a hospital. Some time must've passed, enough for her to heal fully. She didn't just _not hurt,_ she felt good. Awake. Alert.

She swung her legs off the bed and stared at them. They were whole and straight. They'd been broken, before. Both of them. She wiggled her toes and wondered at how much time had passed. Months? Years?

First question: _Where am I?_

Second question: _Who am I?_

She looked around, squinting in the late afternoon gloom to find some answers.

Neatly set aside on the bedside table were several items—a ring of keys, a driver's license, and a folder. She opened the folder and saw a birth certificate, a passport, and a social security card. The woman frowned at this and picked up the driver's license.

A tanned woman flashed a thin smile out at her—she looked bored, but also slightly antsy… she'd probably just waited at the DMV for hours to get this picture taken. Her hair was wildly curly, a dark brown mass hovering around her head. She turned the license over. Huh, a donor. Good on her. She flipped it around once more.

She'd been born on October 11th, 1973. So that would make her… how old? The woman puzzling over the license frowned as she realized that she didn't know what today was—what year it was. No basis for comparison. She cross-referenced the license, the passport, and the birth certificate. Same person.

Her name was Cassandra Elaine Locke. Damn, what a mouthful. Too many old family names for one person. Looked like a case of "I-want-to-keep-the-inlaws-happy-so-let's-name-the-kid-after-everyone." Good job, now your three-year-old has to learn how to write that long-ass name. She rolled my eyes and looked at the other information on the card. It was a Louisiana driver's license. The woman on the license had gray eyes and brown hair. She was 5 foot 6 and 130 pounds.

She put the license down and rose, edging softly towards a door. She swung it open and flipped on a light switch.

It was a small, dingy bathroom with cracked, black-and-white checkered tiles. What's more, there was a large mirror hanging on the wall.

She looked into her gray eyes and saw the face from the driver's license.

First thought: _Good, so I answered my second question._

Second thought: _Well shit, that long-ass name is _mine.

There was a sudden sound in the room behind her, not a bang, like the room was being broken into—but a scraping of a key in a lock, a door creaking open. She quickly turned off the bathroom light and peered into the room, hoping that whoever it was wouldn't see her. The absence of light burned her eyes for some reason; her head seared with pain. She winced and lifted a hand to her temple. What…?

No such luck. "Cassandra?" The main light in the bedroom flickered on, revealing a man just a little taller than she was. He had brown hair and brown eyes, and was dressed casually in slacks and a red polo. Even so, his clothing stood out in stark contrast to the rest of the small, derelict apartment.

He approached her cautiously, like she was a wild animal.

"Who are you?" Cassie said, in a tone that was _just_ biting enough to give him pause. It took great effort to stop rubbing her forehead; thankfully the pain was receding to a dull ache.

"Nick," he said with a searching look.

"Nick…?"

"Billings."

"How do you know me?" Cassie pressed on.

"We're coworkers," he said mildly. Nick crossed the room and sat on the edge of her bed, the only thing that looked actually, y'know, _clean_, and smiled at he as she padded out of the bathroom. She looked down at herself. Jeans and a ratty gray t-shirt. Could be worse. She paused in the middle of the room and drew herself up to her full height, crossing her arms.

"What do we do? How long have I been asleep? What happened to me?"

"We help women who are in need of assistance." He shrugged. "They're pregnant, and have abusive boyfriends, ex husbands, etc. We make sure they get to our safe house alive and well. It's a volunteer effort, really, but they give us the essentials." He waved at the dingy little apartment. His expression was still guarded, and Cassie knew that he was withholding some information.

"How long," Cassie pressed.

"You've been out for eight months."

"What happened to me?" She couldn't relax until all of her questions had been answered.

He shot her a quizzical look. "You don't remember anything, do you?"

Being questioned herself made Cassie stumble. "Um, well…" Before she could finish saying anything, a quick stab of pain made her grimace visibly and press her fingers into the skin on the inside corners of her eyes.

"Makai," he shot. His gaze was piercing, fixed on her face. "Spirit World. Psychics. Demons… none of it?"

The pressure kept building in her head, but she was still able to hear Nick prattling on about ridiculous, _impossible_ things, and shook her head before glaring at him.

"What the actual fuck," Cassie responded eloquently, in a flat voice. "Are you insane?"

Abruptly, the pain vanished, and Nick frowned. "No, you just can't remember." The man rose to his feet and made to walk over to her.

"What _year_ is it?" She snapped, recoiling a couple steps, and he paused.

"It's June '94."

1994? She quickly did the math in her head. "I'm _nineteen?" _That was definitely _not_ right. She shook her head, and bolted back into the bathroom, flicking on the light switch.

She didn't _look_ like she was still a teenager. There were thin lines in the creases around her eyes, around her mouth. There were dark circles under her eyes, and now her hair was longer, shoulder length… the woman in the picture had chin length hair. So at least the fact that she'd been out for some time hadn't been a lie. She looked like she was in her early thirties, not so.._. _so _young._ She touched her hair, looking for grays (though finding none.) "If you're lying to me…"

"I'm not," Nick insisted, appearing at the bathroom doorway. Cassie rounded on him, and he held up his hands, looking hurt. "You probably should sit down while I explain this all to you. I can't believe you _forgot_ about all this…"

"Why do I look older than you say I am, then?" Cassie asked.

"I think you should sit down," Nick repeated, in a very quiet, gentle voice. "Don't take offense, but… being in a coma aged you. A lot. You were going to die, Cassandra."

"Just Cassie," she rebuffed automatically, not knowing why. She brushed past him and sat on the edge of her bed, and waited.

* * *

**Abbey**

_Another portal from the demonic plane has been discovered in downtown Los Angeles… the breach isn't large enough to accommodate even C-class demons, but psychics from Reikai are closing it as we speak. There is no telling how many demons have passed through the portal, and a 9 pm curfew is in effect so authorities can search the streets for illegal demonic aliens. Please be on guard._

"Turn if off," Abbey's boyfriend grumbled, startling her as he decided, half a second later, to turn it off himself—his hand darting past her knee in a flash and snagging the remote. She turned on him to chastise him as the TV blinked off, but then decided against it, smiling at him warmly.

One set of his eyelids blinked, and then another—a thinner, waterproof set under the "normal" ones—and he smirked at her. His bald head, spine, and the sides of his forearms were covered with a rainbow of soft, flat scales that glinted in the sunlight. He was beautiful, to her. The whole world thought otherwise.

Well, their country, that is. Japan and its other eastern neighbors hadn't taken issue with the discovery of the demon plane; they simply started registering the "illegal aliens" as citizens. Good old 'Murica was, as usual, decades behind more civilized countries. Conservative news stations had dubbed the discovery of a demonic presence in their country as an "invasion." The southern states were in an uproar; evangelical Christians were calling for war against this slight on their "nation under god." Pah. At least California had legislature floating around that would make the registration of demonic persons a thing—instead of packing them up and sending them to prison or back to the demon plane. Though it was usually prison.

"You look pissed," Zan said, lifting his thumb to brush the crease in her brow. "I know that look. I told you to not watch the news… all it does is tick you off."

"We should move," Abbey complained. "You know German. We could move to Germany—Sure, they have a no tolerance policy for demonic crimes, but you're a goody two-shoes." Germany, though more lenient to its demonic population than the US, would still ship demons to Makai if they so much as jaywalked.

"Or we could go to Demon World," he said, grinning as he slid over to her and nibbled her neck. "Slap a few air purification wards down…"

"I don't want to live in a place where I can't breathe the _air_," she complained, giggling and struggling to dislodge herself from her boyfriend's grip. She fixed him with a pouting frown.

"You know it's dangerous for you here," she said softly. "They're moving energy detectors all over the place—not just in airports. Soon you won't even be able to take the _bus_ without having to walk through one of those things."

"Then I'll walk," he replied calmly.

"Then they'll have checkpoints on the streets."

"Then I'll jump from rooftop to rooftop."

"Yeah, because _that_ won't attract any attention at all." She quirked a small smile at him, and then sighed, slapping the comforter with the heel of her palm and scooting away from him so she could see him properly. "We need to leave before things get too bad." He didn't respond. "Do you know what they _do_ to people like me?" she said suddenly. "People who… who…"

"Fuck demons? Yeah, I know," he said sullenly.

"Hey, you know I didn't mean it like that. I love you," Abbey said gently. "But we have to think. What if… what if I got pregnant? I can't just waltz into a hospital and give birth. They'd know if our baby was half demon; they test for that now. They'd jail me, and take our kid away." Her nose was suddenly hot, and her eyes felt like they were being pricked with needles. She and Zan had been together for two years now; they _wanted _to start their family six months ago. But it was too dangerous. "We can't ever have kids here, Zan."

"I know," he said sullenly. He rose from the bed, too quickly to see, and paced the room. Abbey spared half a second to admire him—he was stark naked still—and then shook it off.

"What do you want to do?" she asked evenly.

"I want this miserable dimension to accept us," he snapped, pausing at the window. His hands gripped the windowsill, and Abbey heard faint creaking noises as he gripped the wood too tightly. He loosened them right before Abbey could tell him that the landlord would have his head if he accidentally broke another fixture in this apartment. "I want to start a family. I want to keep you safe. I want to be with you. But I can't do any of that until these _humans_ stop treating us like monsters." _Humans_. He said it like a curse. Abbey felt a pang of sorrow, and averted her gaze to her hands. He didn't mean it that way, but…

"I'm human," she reminded him softly.

Zan rounded on her, but when he saw the hurt in her eyes, his expression softened, and he climbed back into bed. "Yes, you are." He touched her face gently; her hair, her cheekbones, her lips—like she was made of fine china. To him, she might as well be. "But you're different from the others. You have a good heart."

"Thanks," she murmured.

He gave her a searching look, and Abbey made sure her expression was carefully blank. "All right," he said. "Okay. I'll start looking for a way to get us both out of here. You can take a plane, no problem, but I have to find a different way…" he frowned. "Maybe I'll hop back in Makai and take it on foot, and pop back out on the other side of the world."

Abbey almost said that she wanted to go with him, but she knew it was foolish. She'd die before they both got to Germany if she went with him. Though the thought of travelling without him had her stomach in knots, she knew it had to be done. It was the only way they would ever be together. Abbey put on a brave face, nodded.

"Let's start packing."

* * *

**Cassie**

Cassie squinted against the light as she and Nick exited the apartment building, and sighed, rubbing her temples. They _did_ need the coffee that Nick said they were going to the corner store to get. She felt dead on her feet now, her mind too overworked to think straight.

Back in the apartment, Nick told her that the world they lived in had expanded its perspective over the past couple years, to include two other dimensions. Demonic and spiritual planes. Since then, their world (Human World) had been in an uproar; some world leaders fearing war, others fearing invasion. Some countries simply registered the non-human denizens that lived within their borders, and others were deporting them. Cassie had called bullshit, but Nick had simply flicked on the television to the local news station, and after seeing pictures of demonic felons flashing across the screen, and hearing stories of the latest demonic crimes, etc, she'd told Nick to turn it off and tell her what they really did for a living.

The underprivileged mothers that they ferreted away to safe houses were not your run-of-the mill expectant and newly minted mothers. They were either expecting half-demon children, or already _had _them. The women and their children were being cared for by their organization, OWS (Organization for the Welfare of the Supernormal,) because many of them claimed to have not known that the fathers were demons. More often than not, this was probably a lie—but it was a crime to knowingly associate yourself with a demon in the US, so when the mothers agreed to the statement that they _didn't_ know, they and their children were safe from prosecution.

There were some, however, that didn't actually know that the fathers were demons. These mothers stayed at the safe houses until they had their children. After that, they usually left—alone. Their children were never taken from them, but it seemed to Cassie at least that they were being forced to abandon their babies. It was either live in a safe house far from society, or leave the children behind and re-enter the world. Demonic auras had the tendency to awaken psychic abilities within full-blooded humans, so these children could never leave the safe houses. Not to mention the fact that they would be viciously persecuted if they tried to meld with human society. It was for their own protection as well, Nick insisted, but Cassie wasn't so sure.

"What do they do with the babies that the mothers leave behind?" Cassie asked Nick when they got back, and the coffee pot was gurgling on the counter. It was the obvious, burning question. And Nick told her.

These children were being cared for by Spirit World. They went to orphanages in Makai where Reikai had their embassies, and waited for their fathers to either find them, or get released from jail and find them. (It was usually the latter.) Because they were half demon, they could breathe the air in Makai and live. With no mothers to support them (the mothers who stayed with their children were allowed to leave the safe houses and earn a living, as long as they returned at the end of the day, as the OWS couldn't care for them all with their limited funds,) they were a burden on the system and couldn't remain in Human World.

"It's an ugly business," Nick said grimly, after Cassie had expressed the same sentiment. He set a chipped black mug in front of her, and sat down on the other side of the small, rickety table with his own. "But we _are_ helping them. They _are_ being cared for, Cassie. We're the only place they have left. It's horrible that they can't live with the rest of the population… but if they tried, they would be killed." Their organization was working on pro-demon legislation so that someday the segregation would be a thing of the past, but change didn't come easy, and certainly didn't happen overnight.

"But who's keeping us in line?" Cassie pressed. "Who's holding us accountable, making sure nothing shady—"

It was his bewildered and slightly amused look that made her stumble in her speech, and his bitter laugh that silenced her completely. "Cassandra, half the politicians on capitol hill want to dig a nice big hole, line all the demons, mothers to the half-bloods, _and_ the half-bloods around it, and shoot them with a high-powered slug so they'll land neatly in a mass grave. There is no regulation because nobody wants to so much as _touch_ a hot topic like this, much less sully their reputation by trying to make sure the OWS is being run correctly."

"_Why_?" Cassie couldn't say she was surprised per se, but the idea that people actually _felt_ that way was horrifying. "Why would they want to _kill_ them?"

"Because not only are these couples creating five-year-olds that are stronger _and_ faster than a full grown man," Nick answered, leaning towards her, "the presence of the demons _and_ their half-bloods are turning the humans around them into psychics. It takes a whole SWAT team just to take one telekinetic out. _One._ Understand?"

Cassie mulled it over, her frown deepening as the cogs turned in her head. "They're afraid." She looked up at Nick, and then leaned towards him too, the steam from their coffee cups wafting around her face. "The government's _afraid_ of—but that's what this country was founded on, right? The government _should_ be afraid of its people…"

"How patriotic of you," Nick noted, settling back into his seat and lifting his coffee to his lips. He took a swallow, grimaced, and set it back on the table. "Unfortunately, Cassandra, that's not the way the world works anymore." His finger tapped the edge of his cup. "Fuckin' general brand coffee…"

"So that's it then?" Cassie shot at him sourly. "We're caving. Working with the system that wants to kill everyone that can stand against it."

"Nope." He took another swig of coffee. "We're working _around_ it, Cassandra—"

"Cassie," she insisted.

"Whatever. We're trying to work around the system as best we can. Our safehouses are illegal in fifteen states; did you know that? Including…" He pointed at the ground, "Louisiana. We're trying to change this place, Cassandra. But it won't happen overnight. We're doing the _best_ we can." He reached over and took her hand, squeezing it as he shot her a suddenly earnest look. "Trust me."

* * *

**Kuronue**

"You've got a letter, direct from Koenma, sir," the wraith that had been hounding him said, panting and waving a letter at Kuronue. "Sir! It's important!" The demonic body that this Reikaian spirit inhabited had an annoyingly high-pitched voice.

Wraiths, agents of Spirit World whose original use was to find and bring back humans who had wandered into Makai, were no longer being "made," per se. However, the wraiths that already existed had not been forced out of the demonic bodies they inhabited… because there was always a chance of the next Makaian king revoking the law for human protection. All losing demons in the tournament Makai had every three years to decide its ruler were bound by law to turn in every human wanderer they found, but such tournaments were a relatively recent development, and so the wraiths—who used to be necessary—were demoted to running messages along with the ogres in Reikai.

Kuronue sighed and rounded on the wraith, who cringed back from him and meekly handed out the letter. He could see that it was sealed with a ward that would only let someone with the right energy signature open it. When Kuronue took it, the bands of light green energy that surrounded it splintered and fell away, and he irritably sliced the letter open with a single claw.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Stressful day."

"Oh, no problem sir!" the wraith scuttled off to badger someone else.

Kuronue stared at the letter, and his small frown only deepened as he continued to read.

"Well _shit."_

* * *

**Kurama**

"I don't feel comfortable with this," Reina was saying as Kurama zipped the last suitcase shut. She frowned at him from her perch, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "You're going to _America_. Do you know what they _do_ to demons over there?"

"I have human life energy," Kurama reminded her, giving her a weighted look. "I am probably the best person to go. Jin, Kuronue, and Touya are taking risks, being fully demonic. I have all the physical perks of being a demon, while also being able to fly under the radar." _Literally._ Koenma had mentioned in his letter that the humans of America had created spiritual energy-sensing devices; they were standard at all US airports… and no demon could pass without detection.

While Kurama had demonic spiritual energy, it would mix with the human energy of his body (and he would be suppressing it besides.) The monitors, Koenma assured, would give a faint blip as he passed through it, but would eventually pass him off as human. He'd be waved through because the technology wasn't yet advanced enough to condemn him completely. He would be hiding a couple wards on his person, just in case the technology had advanced enough to detect human psychic energy.

"I want to go with you," she said stubbornly. "I'm actually the best person to go. There's always a chance that you _will_ run into trouble. Me? No spiritual energy whatsoever." Kurama rolled his eyes at his wife's falsely cheery attitude. The emotion wafting to him through the mark on her arm was anything but lighthearted—she was worried, but she was notoriously predisposed to hide it from him. A useless effort, really—but that habit had formed _before_ he marked her, and had persisted through the years.

Her offer, though, was technically valid. Koenma, the prince of Spirit World, had sealed Reina's energy at her request when it became a choice between keeping her psychic abilities, or staying alive. Since then, Reina was rendered spiritually unremarkable, lacking even the faintest traces of any aura whatsoever. It was even difficult to pinpoint her life energy...

Reina, if she had taken this job in his stead, wouldn't even have to put on wards.

"You know that you mustn't. You need to keep things running smoothly here." Kurama waved at the window, and Reina spared Genkai's temple grounds—now a halfway house of sorts for demon refugees either seeking Japanese citizenship or looking for a way back to the demon plane—a cursory glance before sighing and slipping off the dresser and walking over to his kneeling form.

Reina kneeled behind Kurama and curved her arms around his shoulders from behind, resting her cheek against his as they both stared unseeingly at his suitcase. "Tell me where you're going again," she muttered sullenly, giving in. Kurama quirked a small smile, almost _hearing _her pout. He could sense her displeasure regardless, but her frustration was always amusing to behold.

'_Oh, get on with it,' _Reina thought at him sourly, jamming a finger under his arm and wiggling it. Kurama snorted and shrugged to get her to stop tickling him.

Kurama could easily _think_ what he needed to say to her through the mark—it not only transmitted emotion, but thought as well—and she would hear it… but he felt like speaking aloud. It calmed his thoughts in a way that not even the mark he had given her (and the connection between them that it had formed) could not.

"I'm going to the state of Louisiana," Kurama answered, deciding that he had indeed packed everything and pushing the suitcase off the futon next to his carry on backpack. "To a small town within it named Florence. Louisiana is in the southern part of America, and Florence is in the southwestern part of Louisiana." He placed a hand over her arm, nuzzled the scar on the inside of her elbow gently.

He could almost hear her frown deepen, though her emotional climate was smoothing out as he kissed her mark. "I thought Florence was in Italy."

"Americans are not very original, dear." His lips moved up her arm, inch by inch.

She snorted at that. "And what're you doing there? What's the job description? Run through it again. And stop that; you aren't getting a quickie." She jerked her arm out of his reach and playfully batted him on the crown of his head. "We only have five hours to get to the airport." That _was_ an issue they knew that they were going to have, when they decided to move out to Genkai's temple. They were three hours from the nearest town, and with all the checkpoints these days, it _would_ take him at least two hours to get through security…

"Well, Jin will be with me," Kurama stated brusquely, ceasing his sly advances. "Touya will start in Canada and travel down to Florence to regroup with Jin and I."

"And why the focus on Florence?"

"Our informants say that a demon trafficking facility is there. They do not know much, but we are to be on call in case they discover anything else. And, of course, to do a little digging of our own."

"What makes them think there's a facility there?" Reina released Kurama and sat down on the edge of their futon. He could see her frown now.

Kurama smiled, and settled more comfortably on the floor next to her, stretching out on the futon and looking up at her as he spoke. "For one, it is very remote. And secondly… there have been at least five confirmed rifts in that area. They weren't natural, and they were _not_ coming from the demon plane. Kuronue will be investigating the corresponding part of Demon World. We believe that the humans running the facility are either psychics, or are utilizing psychics to open a portal to the demon plane."

"They're transporting demons back to Makai?" Reina rolled her eyes. "What's the big deal about that? At least they're going home." Many demons in America didn't have such a luxury. Many of them were incarcerated, or worse.

"There is no influx of demons in that part of Makai," Kurama responded quietly. "They are being transported to that plane, yes, but they are _not_ being set free. No one in Makai has claimed to come from that part of Louisiana… because every demon that gets within one hundred miles of that place is not heard from again." He saw that Reina was beginning to worry the inside of her lip as she started to realize the implications of this.

"If the humans are harming the demons somehow… it would be considered an act of war," Kurama said grimly.

* * *

**I tried to explain the things that existed in ATG/WTT as best I can, but if you're confused about some things (wraiths, etc,) feel free to comment about it in your review! Hint hint ;D**


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